Power Isn't the Same as Magic
by Shibalyfe
Summary: A young Wanda Maximoff tries to learn to control her powers under Hermione Granger. This was written for The Houses Competition: Y5R4.


House/Team: Gryffindor

Class Subject: Care of Magical Creatures

Story Category: Standard

Prompt: [cross-over] X-men Universe

Beta: Tiggs

Word Count: 1943

A/N: This is a look at the young Wanda Maximoff. She shows up in the X-men Comics as a villain initially. This story was written for The Houses Competition, Y5R4.

* * *

Power Isn't the Same as Magic

Hermione Granger sighed as she saw the young child get off the plane. Her eyes were round and bright with excitement as she took in the grey London skyline. She had a red backpack that seemed to dwarf her small frame; Hermione had trouble believing she was dangerous, but she knew better. She had experienced many young, frightened Muggles who were scared of their powers and the magic that they could reproduce.

The young girl ran over to her, her red hair billowing behind her, and Hermione schooled her face into a friendly smile.

"Hello! What's your name?" she asked, extending her hand to the small child.

She had learned over the last few years in her position as an underage magic ambassador to never show these kids fear, to always look them in the eye, and to be as gentle as possible with them. They could turn volatile at any moment, which is why they were sent to her for tutelage. They weren't old enough to attend Hogwarts, but they were dangerous enough that they needed help controlling their powers, and that's where Hermione came in. She would teach them ways to cope with their magic and some minor spells.

Most children had random spouts of power and magic; rarely was it destructive, but there were a few that were. They usually harbored some deep-set anger, either from abandonment or their circumstances, but their magic manifested itself in more powerful and destructive ways. Hermione had seen the way Tom Riddle had turned that anger into something terrible, and after the war, she had vowed to never allow that to happen again.

"Hello! I'm Wanda!" The child gave her a shy smile and took her hand.

* * *

Hermione stepped off the train with Wanda following closely behind her. She could see the castle in the distance and the sight of it brought back so many different memories. She hadn't been back since the aftermath of the final battle a few years ago. Many different emotions bubbled to the surface, and she couldn't say that she was happy to be back, but Hogwarts seemed to be the safest spot to train Wanda and try to harness her powers. Her building in the city, where she would usually train these children, was surrounded by too many innocent people, even with her wards protecting it. The reports of Wanda's powers were too dangerous to keep in the city, so Hogwarts had seemed the best solution. It was empty, except for a few teachers that chose to stay there during their summer holiday, it was in a very remote location, and, most importantly, it was better warded and protected.

"That's where we are going to live?" she asked excitedly.

"For a little bit, yes." Hermione grabbed her hand again and led her to the awaiting carriage, the Thestral in front of it stomping its bony leg impatiently.

Wanda shrieked and the ground beneath their feet shook. "What is that?"

Hermione's smile saddened as she realized what it meant for the small child. She was barely nine years old and had already witnessed someone's death—no wonder her magic was so volatile. She couldn't imagine the life she must have lived.

"It's okay," Hermione said softly. She tried to gently pull Wanda out from around her back. "This is a Thestral; they are a breed of winged horse. They are quite scary to look at, aren't they?" Wanda nodded her head. "They are very gentle though, watch."

Hermione slowly reached out her hand towards the Thestral's head. Its warm breath ghosted over her hand and she felt the wet nose nuzzle her gently. She smiled as she gently stroked the boney head.

"See," she reiterated.

The girl cautiously stepped forward and put out her hand. The creature bent its head for the child to pet and nickerd happily at the attention.

Hermione had to pull the girl away from the horse as the sky began to darken so they could make their way towards the castle.

* * *

Hermione knocked before pushing open the door to her old dorm room. After discovering that Wanda's favorite color was red during one of their many conversations, she felt that Gryffindor Tower would be the most logical place to put her. It was cozy, warm, and, more importantly, filled with red décor.

She stepped into the room and saw the girl sitting on the bed that had once belonged to Parvati. She was staring out the window. A small number of items lined the windowsill: a picture of Wanda and a toothless boy smiling out of a frame, a small red broach, and a dirty stuffed cat.

"How are you liking your new room? Is it red enough?" Hermione joked. She approached the child on the bed and saw that there were tears trailing down her face. "What's wrong?" She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and kneeled down so she was level with her face.

The girl shook her head and turned away from her. "I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled.

"Talking about it is the only way we can work through it," Hermione said. "Do you not like your room?" Wanda shook her head in response. "Are you homesick?" Hermione tried again. "Are you missing your brother?" She eyed the picture and Wanda started crying harder. "Is that him?" She reached out towards the picture frame.

Wanda screamed at her, "Don't touch it!"

Her eyes turned red, the power in them dancing, as she glared at Hermione. "I said I didn't want to talk about it! Leave me alone!"

The air turned warmer and Hermione could see red heat begin to form in the child's fist. The glass in the window burst and the destructive power whirled around the room, wreaking havoc on anything in its way. Hermione could feel her eyes begin to water and she slowly tried to work her wand out of her pocket without setting the girl off further.

Her hand gripped the wooden handle and she quickly pulled it out and aimed it at the girl.

"_Stupefy!_"

The girl fell back on the bed and the chaos in the room instantly stopped. Hermione took in the sight of her unconscious body and exited the room.

She ran over to the fireplace where she muttered a spell and put her head in the flames.

"Henry!" she shouted through the flames, the ashes making her cough. "Henry!"

She could see the room, although it was hazy. There was a figure slouched over a desk. She tried shouting his name again. The man jumped up and ran towards the flame.

"I am under the assumption you have an update on your latest charge, Hermione?"

She nodded and launched into the details of what had just happened. "It's strange, Henry; it feels different than any normal magic, more chaotic and emotional. I have never experienced anything like this. I think I am going to try to get her a wand to channel the energy through. Could you arrange for Ollivander to come to the school?" Henry nodded. "I also would like you to look into her family background some more, something doesn't seem right." Henry nodded and she ended the fire call.

* * *

Hermione didn't mention the incident; instead, she rushed Wanda into a dusty room early the next day where an old man stood waiting with a stack of long, skinny boxes next to him.

"This is the girl?" He peered over his glasses at Wanda and his eyebrows knitted together. "Hmm…" he murmured, "Very peculiar. I don't really sense any particular magic. Let's see what the wands have to say." He shuffled through his tower of boxes and finally pulled one out and handed it to her. "Here." The girl gripped the wand and stared at him. "Well give it a go!"

Wanda flicked her wrist, uncertain, but nothing happened.

Ollivander frowned and grabbed the wand from her grasp. "Try this one." He plucked another wand from his stack.

Wanda waved it. Again, nothing happened. Ollivander tried twenty more wands before turning to Hermione and shaking his head.

"The wands don't lie."

Wanda's lips trembled and Hermione could feel the air begin to shift. Hermione dropped to her knees and tried to soothe the child quickly, rubbing her arms. Ollivander's eyes were wide as he stared at the scene in front of him, but he shook his head.

"Power isn't the same as magic."

Hermione glared at him and ushered the girl out of the room.

"How about we practice some magic?" she asked cheerily, trying to distract the girl.

She ran to the closest room and cleared the desks from it with a flick of her wand. She pulled Wanda into the room and placed her in the center. She went over wand movements with her before teaching her the incantation for Wingardium Leviosa.

The young girl shouted the spell and moved her hand in the same manner Hermione showed her and nothing happened. Hermione didn't feel the slightest shimmer of magic.

"That's okay, not everyone gets it on their first try. Let's try again."

They continued to practice until the late afternoon, but the only magic that Wanda had shown was when her anger at failing began to get out of control. Hermione sighed and decided that it was enough for one day.

The next few weeks followed the same pattern. Hermione was starting to run out of ideas. The only time the girl showed any type of magic or power was when she was very angry. Hermione had never had to deal with that before; usually the children showed some type of magical inclination, but the girl seemed almost Muggle until her emotions got the best of her.

Hermione was pacing her room when an elf popped in to check on her.

"Is there anythings I can gets you, Miss Granger?"

"No," Hermione sighed heavily, "unless of course you can teach that witch how to do magic properly."

"Miss Wanda isn't no witch, Miss Granger. You won't be able to teach her magic because she doesn't got any."

Hermione whipped her head around. "What did you say?"

"We elves, we know these sorts of things. She isn't witch, she has powers, I can see that but it isn't magic."

* * *

"Hermione, her parents were mutants, or what the States like to call 'superheroes.' They have some abilities but it isn't magic from what I can tell; it seems to have more to do with genetic mutation."

"So, what am I supposed to do with her, Henry? Abandon her?"

"I have heard of an institute who might take her in, or there is a witch by the name of Agatha Harkness. She has taken in others of her kind."

Hermione stared at the face in front of her in the fire and bit her lip.

"I feel like I failed her, Henry." She wiped away the tears that formed.

"You aren't a failure, Hermione. You can't help everyone. She isn't a witch, and we don't know anything about mutants or how to handle them. This is the best thing for her."

* * *

"You're sending me away?" Wanda cried.

"We just don't know how to help you; we are going to send you to someone who can."

"I am a witch! I'll show you! One day!"

Wanda turned and ran from the room, leaving a trail of destruction in her path.

Hermione rubbed her arms. She had never given up on a child and she couldn't help but feel that the chaos Wanda had left in her wake was partially her fault.


End file.
